The Return of the Dragonhawk

Chapter 32 -- Reunion

Praise the Mistress! Pavlento of Armelion has honoured his word after all. If a thousand men are not enough to turn the tide of the battle, they will at least delay the fall of Praxenkyr until my troops arrive.

Rhoz descended from the clouds and stationed herself at the top of a tall tree to observe the miraculous turn of events unfolding south of the fortress. The promised troops had arrived from the South, complete with forty-nine oliphants, just as Utor had described them. The great beasts, hung with heavy armour, were advancing shoulder to shoulder at the head of the army, pushing everything before them. Few of the Northlanders had the courage or zeal to remain in their path; those foolhardy enough to try were swiftly crushed under the enormous feet of the pachyderms.

While the animals cleared the way to the southern gate of the fortress, the soldiers behind them split into two columns to deal with the enemy. The Northlanders towards the east retreated with all possible speed; the others, cut off from the rest of the troops, stampeded westward down the Condor Way.

Rhoz flapped her wings, preparing to spring into the air. She must get to Acontis before the Northlanders did! An ambush with a few magical bombs would be much safer than a face-to-face fight.

The southern gate of Praxenkyr flew open. A contingent of troops poured out and set off in pursuit of the westbound Northlanders. Their commander delayed briefly to confer with the officers of the newly arrived army, then continued on his way, his forces augmented with two hundred or more of the Southern troops.

Rhoz launched herself into the wind and sped back the way she had come. The troops outran her until they were forced to halt to capture a band of stragglers. Rhoz surged forward, looking down at the soldiers with her keen eyes. The prisoners were being marched to the commander for his verdict. She let herself descend for a closer look.

The commander was none other than King Abbelard.

Kyra be praised! This is indeed a day of miracles.

Her heart singing, Rhoz spiralled upwards and pushed west. When she reached Acontis and his band, dead or unconscious bodies littered the highway around them. Only a few intrepid Northlanders fought on, while the others took to the open country, dashing in the direction of the Amethyst Mountains.

Rhoz landed beside Utor, who was standing at the rear, sword in one hand and magical bomb in the other, looking about in vain for an opponent. He knelt beside her, holding his cloak ready to cover her nakedness.

"The way to Praxenkyr is clear!" Rhoz shouted as soon as her human voice returned. "The Southerners have come with their Oliphants, and King Abbelard is leading a rescue party!"

"Do we appear in need of a rescue party?" Utor said as he picked up his bomb. "I have not even had the chance to try this out!"

She laughed. "Patience, uncle. Once we arrive at Praxenkyr, there will be more than enough Northlanders to go around."

"How many?"

"Too many to count." The elation of the moment dissolved. They had relief for the moment, but how long would it last?

Great Avatar, speed my troops to Praxenkyr, and make each of them as strong as ten Northlanders.

The first of the Peregrians galloped into sight, throwing the remaining Northlanders into panic. Acontis' band cheered as their enemies fled.

"None dead, and only two or three shallow wounds, easily healed," Acontis reported, edging his horse closer.

"And Alyn -- where is she?" Rhoz asked, her stomach twisting with apprehension. She could not see her blood-sister anywhere.